


Can I Keep Them?

by InkuisitivSkins



Series: LivMiles Drabbles / Prompts [13]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Dogs, F/M, Fluff, How Do I Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 20:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13959213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkuisitivSkins/pseuds/InkuisitivSkins
Summary: Dogs are the companions of man, be it through friendship, or comrades in war. When a Drachman war dog find its way to Briggs, it brings some suspicion, distraction, and a few small surprises with it.





	Can I Keep Them?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Illidria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/gifts).



> For a "Nearly 200 Writing Prompts" askmeme on tumblr, #113 and #47 -- “Where did all these puppies come from?” and "You’re cute when you’re angry."
> 
> Sent in by my lovely friend Illidria, who is also on here if you want more amazing and wonderful FMA fics to read <3
> 
> I've been kind of in a writer's block recently, so that plus being super stupid busy recently, this wasn't very long... so I'm sorry ;A; I hope you like it though

“General?” He asked a third time; his first two acknowledgements falling upon deaf ears, it seemed. He rapped on the door once more, beginning to get frustrated. Major General Armstrong was obviously in her office; he could hear her speaking softly to someone. He, however, did not hear any replies.

“Permission to enter, General?” Miles sighed, ready to give up.

Yet, to his surprise, he heard her reply directly to him, “Permission granted, Major.”

He stepped inside, immediately looking around her office to see who she had been speaking so quietly to-- but she seemed to be the only soul in sight.

“Who were you talking to?” He blinked, eyebrows knit in confusion.

“No one,” She replied calmly. “Was there something you needed, Miles?”

He pursed his lips, “You’re typically a beautiful liar, Olivier, but you know I can almost always tell when something is amiss.”

“Beautiful, huh?” He saw the curl of a crooked smile on her lips.

“Olivier, _no_ ,” Miles sighed, hearing the playful twinge in her voice. “You can’t just change the subject by being cute. Who were you speaking with?”

“What, are you jealous?”

“Judging by the tone of your voice and the fact that you even asked that question, I guess that means I don’t have to worry about you cheating on me,” Miles snorted in amusement. “If you ever were, I know you wouldn’t bring it up.”

“Maybe I’m just trying to pull a fast one on you; make you second guess yourself,” the blonde replied, pushing her chair back slightly. “Promise me that you won’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad about you talking to someone? You’re a grown woman, I was just curious. Normally you inform me when you have guests so I won’t barge in on any important, classified conversations. Not that you keep anything classified from me, but...”

She frowned, eyes narrowing somewhat, “Just promise.”

Miles grunted an affirmation.

“Then come here.”

He rounded the desk, albeit a tad more nervous than before. Whatever this seemed to be about, it was looking like it was a serious manner, judging by the quick absence of playfulness in the major general’s voice.

Once at her side, he watched as she jabbed an index finger down towards the negative space which lay underneath her desk. With some effort, his back was pained and stiff from his endeavors during the day, he kneeled down to peer beneath the mahogany.

He blinked in disbelief, now more confused than he had been prior, “Olivier?”

“ _Hmm_?”

“Where did all these puppies come from?”

He watched in puzzled silence as Olivier chuckled, watching the small litter of five, fluffy puppies crawl over one another in the darkness. One was curled up, asleep in the corner, as another one nosed its way close to its sibling, nuzzling its fur in an attempt to find a warm place to take their own similar nap. The other three, however, merely squirmed their way around the floor, able to walk, yet wobbly on their stubby legs. One began to whine softly; most likely because Olivier had been playing with them, and it was now realizing the lack of attention it was getting.

“You know that Drachman war dog we’ve been keeping under lock and key?”

Miles nodded, recalling the incident. A large ovcharka mix, dogs renowned for their place in the Drachman military, had wandered its way into Briggs territory. It was found when a scouting group had been sent to secure the location of a bear that had been sighted, yet the men instead found the bear to be in battle with the dog. They, rightfully so, were on immediate high alert, having recognized the dog as a breed of Drachma, yet she wore no equipment that they usually donned. As it ended up, they didn’t need to drive the bear off-- _she_ did; an alternate name of her breed being bear-dogs, a fact that ironically proved itself at that moment.

She had seemed friendly enough; happily walking up to them as if she recognized people, which only increased their suspicions about her being a Drachman dog. They, however, brought her back to the fort, where she had been kept under close surveillance since, just in case it was part of a Drachman plot against the Amestrian fortress.

It seemed as she it wasn’t, though, since over the month that she’d been in Briggs, she showed no signs of harboring any explosive devices or plans for sabotage. As if she had the ability to.

Instead, she was quickly released from her confinement in the Briggs holding cells. She became somewhat of a mascot for the fort, and while Olivier had not liked that she was becoming a distraction for her men, she couldn’t help but give her pats on the head or stern “good girl”s whenever she passed her by.

But Miles had no idea she had been pregnant. Perhaps it was all the fur covering up what would have been her distended belly.

“Aren’t they cute? The mother’s pregnancy may explain why she wandered from home, and why she was so ready to fight a bear. She was protecting her unborn babies.”

“Olivier,” Miles spoke flatly, red eyes glancing up at the major general, who smiled calmly back down at him with her returned blue gaze.

“Are you good with names, Miles? The men named their mother Fluffy, which I think is _so_ utterly uncreative. I was thinking something more majestic and empowering.”

He watched as she bent slightly, picking up the whining puppy with one of the most gentle motions he had ever seen from the Northern Wall of Briggs, only to have her bring it to her chest in a small embrace.

It stuck its small tongue out, licking her hand.

“I’m thinking this one could be Empress Theia Astraea II. The Second because it would have been cool if it was her mother’s name, but the sergeants in Delta Squadron beat me to it. Remind me to appoint them night’s watch so they learn not to cross me next time.”

“We can’t keep them, Olivier,” Miles sighed, watching helplessly as the cute-factor of the puppy was combined with the cute-factor of his partner. He knew his tone betrayed him, since Olivier commented on it--

“I know you don’t mean that,” she _hmphed_ , “what’s wrong with a few dogs running around the fort?”

“We don’t have room for six, full-grown ovcharkas, plus all of the things they would need. Our budget is already cut as it is, not including vet visits, food, toys…”

“Wouldn’t it be cool if we were the ones to pioneer the first of Amestris’s great war hounds?”

“ _You_ don’t mean that,” Miles retorted.

“I know,” her griped answer came quicker than the major would have expected; knowing how stubborn she typically was. “I couldn’t stand to send these guys at the enemy. I don’t want to see them get hurt.”

“So,” Miles straightened, stretching slightly in an attempt to alleviate his back from some of the pain. “Do you know anyone in Central who could take them? It would be safe down there, Central is a very dog-friendly city.”

Olivier frowned, “I don’t want to send them away.”

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” Miles frowned slightly back, “the pout is very convincing.”

She grumbled quietly, looking back down at the puppy, “I know it’s dangerous for them here. I just want them to be taken care of, and I don’t trust anyone else with them. How will I know if they’re trained correctly?”

“You and I both have people we can get in contact with about finding them good homes,” Miles reassured her, setting a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

“I suppose you’re right,” Olivier sighed, watching the puppy in her arms as it settled down for a nap, closing its eyes.

“Also, Olivier?”

She glanced back up at him, acknowledging him.

“Don’t make fun of the name Fluffy, that was my childhood dog’s name.”

She smiled amusedly, “Okay, you’re _definitely_ not naming these, then.”


End file.
